


Wind Lantern Festival

by Spectraheart



Category: Naruto
Genre: Festivals, Gen, Komushi is a bean, Sasori don't keep the corpse of your best friend, THIS ISN'T AS BAD AS I CLAIM THERE'S HAPPY GOODNESS IN HERE, That's Nasty, This Is So Bad I'm So Sorry, WHYYYYyyyyy, What Did You Expect, i'm so sorry this took so long, slight body horror, there's a guy who made a puppet out of his best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-16 10:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectraheart/pseuds/Spectraheart
Summary: Sasori did not celebrate holidays. That was a universal truth. Just as the sun rises every day and the waves always break.But there was a time when he did.





	Wind Lantern Festival

Sasori felt his annoyance rise as he heard the obnoxious blonde come trapezing through the door. 

_ So much for an evening of interrupted work… _

The red head spun in his seat and faced towards the bomb maker, face contorted into a flat glare. Said blonde merely ignored the killing intent coming his way and gave him the most  _ sickening  _ grin ever seen upon the face of the planet.

“Neh, Sasori, you know what time it is?” The blonde crowed. 

He cocks an eyebrow at the nauseatingly sweet tone, “Pray tell, Deidra, what is so important that you come storming into my workshop as if you own the place?” He drones.

“Awww, don’t worry Sasori, I won’t be long. I just came in to tell you that Sunagakure is celebrating the Wind Festival this week, isn’t that exciting!” The blonde furthers his sickening grin, apparently giddy at dropping his information upon the red head.

Sasori levels the blonde with a flat stare while a small part of him freezes at the mention.  _ Already?  _

“And?”

“What, you’re not going to celebrate it? Even the most terrifying Suna nin celebrate the festival, apparently it’s that important-  _ un _ .” Sasori levelled the blonde with an unimpressed glare. 

“Yes I’m  _ aware  _ of how important the festival is,  _ I lived there.  _ No, if you would,  _ get out. _ ” With his words, Sasori draws a few puppets from their stands and makes a point of directing all of their glassy glares at the blonde.

Said demolitions expert glares, “Piss sport-  _ un.”  _ The blonde’s fun apparently foiled, the boy turns on his heels and walks out the door, slamming the flimsy wood as he goes.

Sasori only rolls his eyes and sinks into his seat, letting the marionettes wander back to their stands.  _ Annoying…  _ His eyes wander down to the puppet arm in front of him, eyes glazing over as his mind drifts. 

"The Wind Festival, hm?" Pale fingers idly plucked at strings, watching as wooden fingers curled and stretched at his bidding. His normally impassive face scrunched into a slight frown, so small it could have been an illusion of the flickering candle light. 

An impulse made the master puppeteer get out from his work table and wander deeper into his work shop. Rows of completed projects gazed down at him as he passed. Most of the time they were usually sealed, but now they were out, either for maintenance or for the sake of just airing it out. He gave them all a cursory glance as he drifted on, already knowing that each piece was in pristine condition. He had checked multiple times today. 

But among these rows was not the puppets he was looking for. No, his most precious were stored somewhere else. A place that no one would bother to enter, considering it was a simple green door, one of the few in the brutish mess that was the Akatsuki base. The paint was chipped and wood rotted due to cave must, but it sufficed. Without much preamble, Sasori swung the door open and gazed inside. 

Three walls, three puppets. Simple, orderly and functional. Two housed the visage of his late parents, both standing tall and well maintained like any other, but the third…  _ why had he not cared for  _ ** _it _ ** _ like the others?  _

He let his chakra flare and sharpen, strings slithering through the air lethargically until they found their homes in the dens within the puppet’s structure. The gears clicked and shuddered from misuse, but the limbs slowly rose up and the puppet walked out from  **its ** housing. 

Green eyes stared back at him.

Sasori hesitated-  _ why-  _ his fingers twitching at the sight of the stiff form. With a huff he shook off the tightness in his chest and brought his hands up to cup the puppet’s cheeks. He turned  **its ** head this way and that, inspecting the nicks and dust that had gathered over the years. 

He frowned as the state of disrepair became clearer and clearer. 

Some part of him tightened as he realized just how  _ cold  _ the puppet was.

He stared down at the glassy green eyes, snarling as the green orbs stared impassively forward. He let the puppet collapse to the floor, cringing slightly as the resounding 'clacks' dared to echo through the tunnels. Something in him roiled at the sight of the collapsed form on the ground, not the part of him that meticulously cared for each marionette as if it was the finest china, but a more primal voice that roared of memories long discarded. Sasori frowns. With a mere flick of a finger, he draws  **it ** up, piece by piece, gear by gear, until  **it ** stands proud before him. 

His brain stalls at the way he had positioned the puppet. Hands on  **its ** hips, head cocked to the side and leg splayed out. He almost expected  **its ** foot to start tapping with impatience and say  _ ‘Keep up Sasori!’ _ .  _ It looked so much like  _ ** _him_ ** ** _. _ **

For a second time, Sasori recoils and cuts the strings, only to jerk his hand out at the realization that  ** _he _ ** _ was going to hit the floor _ and stop the puppet’s downfall. Blue chakra threads shimmered in the meager light as they wrapped almost lovingly around limp joints. With slow, methodical movements born from unseen core of care, Sasori let the strings loose and brought his arms up to cradle the puppet in his grasp. 

He let the wooden head fall on his shoulder into the crook of his neck. His own wooden hands coming to rest on the small of  **its- ** _ no _ ** _\- _ ** **his ** back and shoulder. 

He didn’t know why this was happening. He had seen this puppet hundreds of time, hell, he  _ used  _ it on multiple occasions. So why-  _ the festival had been  _ ** _his_ ** _ favorite time of year.  _

Something in Sasori cracks and the memories long  ** _repressed _ ** come back in a rush. 

_ He had planned it to be a day like any other: wake up, eat, then tread down into his workshop to continue tinkering with all the pieces he head strewn about. Some days he refined his already finished works, others her just toiled away on one with a dedication that even the most hyper focused shinobi would find impressive _

_ He had planned to hide away in his shop until long past night fall, but of course the universe sensed he wanted a quiet evening and it gleefully decided to throw a wrench into his plans. _

_ A wrench named Komushi. _

_ Said brunette crashed his evening by throwing the workshop door wide open, not caring the knob hit the sandstone wall and announced his presence with a loud “Sasori!” _

_ With a sigh, the red head gently places the leg they had been working on, a new design based off the spring legs of the desert mantises he had observed, back on the desktop and braces himself against the wood. He grunts slightly as the brunette comes barreling into him.  _

_ Giggling reaches his ears and he sends a half hearted glare towards the brunette, who didn’t even try to look sheepish, instead flashing him a bright grin.  _

_ Since ignoring his fellow nin was out of the question, Sasori quirks an eyebrow and rises to meet the genin’s barely restrained glee. “What is it, Komushi?” _

_ The brunette falters for a brief moment, grin dimming, before it’s replaced with a teasing smirk. “Why, Sasori, did you forget today is the Wind Festival?” _

_ Whatever retort he had died in his throat, ‘He had promised Chiyo he’d be there…’ _

_ Komushi doubled over laughing as Sasori’s brain screeched to a halt.  _

_ When his brain finally rebooted, the redhead's face morphed into a small snarl. He glared down at the wheezing boy and shoved him off the desk and to the ground. _

_ Komushi just continued to cackle on the floor, even going so far as to clutch his sides. _

_ With a now audible growl, Sasori just turns on his heel and treads out the door, ignoring the wheezed “Sasori, wait!” behind him. He trots through the halls and as he goes he gazes out the windows, not stopping, but taking a brief moment to marvel as the warm glow of all the festival’s lanterns cheerily flooded the night sky.  _

_ With a shake of his head, Sasori turns away and ducks down a hall into his room. He goes over to the closet and swings it wide, pulling his usual ensamble of a pale blue haori, a darker navy blue pair hakama-style pants and cream undershirt. He slides his kunai pouch into the pockets of the hakama, (No, it was not normal, but he had insisted) taking a brief moment to brush his hands against the fabric and smooth out any wrinkles. _

_ He then walks towards the vanity across the room, a simple thing made of red-stained wood with multiple drawers and a mirror crowning the countertop, sliding open one of the drawers and pulling out a simple himo and tying the haori loosley. _

_ It was just as he was done that Komushi came barreling in.  _

_ The brunette threw the door open with a whined “Sasori!” and then proceeded to face plant onto his bed. Sasori merely turned and quirked an eyebrow. “What now Komushi?” _

_ The brunette turned his head a flat stare burned into his features, only for it to shift into another one of those damning bright grins. “You look great Sasori!” Komushi then sits up from the bed, grin still in place, and marches towards the door. _

_ Sasori sighs, “Komushi-” ,the brunette pauses, “-are you going in your mission clothes?” _

_ The brunette pauses before glancing down at his, rather dusty and worn, clothing. He sheepishly grins and scratches the back of his head. “I, uh, kinda forgot about that?” His grin dims for the briefest moment, before the grin is back in place, but less bright than before. “But, hey, it’s fine! I’m not the first shinobi to walkin’ around covered in dust!” _

_ Sasori only frowns, some small part of him twisting painfully at the boy’s forced smile. He then realizes something, ‘We’re almost the same height.’ With an eye roll, he walks over to his closet, pulls out another set of clothing (an almost exact replica of his own, albeit different colors.) and throws them at the brunette’s face. To which the boy sputters. _

_ With no further preamble he walks out the door and slams it shut, calling “Get changed and then we can go.” _

_ He ignores the indignant reply and leans against the wall, listening to the sound of rustling clothing and huffy mumbling. _

_ He only rises when the door swings open and the brunette pops out. _

_ Sasori looks him over, noting the kunai pouch wrapped around his leg and the headband still firmly wrapped around his head. Sasori only nods. “Close enough, now come on.” _

_ Komushi only sputters and trots after him, indignantly saying “Aren’t I the one who reminded you?!” _

_ Sasori only rolls his eyes and drifts out the door and into the street, following the sound of music and laughter to the festival, Komushi following behind like a loyal shadow. _

_ Soon enough the dusty streets and drab cream gives way to red lanterns and sparkling vendors. _

_ Sasori already feels a headache coming on. _

_ Komushi’s grin only widens. _

_ From there the evening is a whirlwind of colors, food, games and music. _

_ Among the various stalls was one that sold plastic masks… which Komushi immediately jumped on: _

_ “No.” _

_ “Oh come on Sasori, it’s not that bad!” _

_ “I said no.” _

_ “Fine…” _

_ (Komushi then proceeded to pin him down and force the plastic mask on his face.) _

_ (He didn’t take it off.) _

_ Another stall sold smaller versions of the lanterns strung over the walkways: _

_ He couldn’t help but stop and admire the lanterns. The paper perfectly creased and the wooden base and handle carved in an elegant arc and stained a deep, hearty brown.  _

_ It was a fine piece of work that whispered the love of the craftsman. _

_ Komushi saddled up next to him, dango held tight in his hands. He gazed down at the lanterns and quirked an eyebrow. _

_ “You like it that much?” _

_ “Hm.” _

_ Sasori went to pick up the lantern to closer see it, only to freeze as his companion snatched it away. He shot the brunette a glare. “Komushi, put it down.” _

_ Komushi only laughed. “Hey, Mr. Salesman! Can I have this one?” He held up the lantern. The salesman gave a hearty laugh. “Of course me’ boy!” _

_ After the transaction was done (With Sasori glaring daggers into Komushi’s back) Komushi cheerfully waved goodbye to the vendor and then shoved the lantern into Sasori’s hands. _

_ The redhead spluttered. To which Komushi laughed. “I know you weren’t going to get it even though ya liked it, you’re frugal to everything that isn’t your puppets.” _

_ Before he can even make a response Komushi has already turned around, happily trotting down the street with dango stuck in his mouth. Sasori only huffs and walks after him. _

_ The evening drags on from there. _

_ Sasori is dragged from booth to booth, sweets shoved into his hands and flashy games played. While he enjoys quite a few games (it was fun winning the rigged ones just to see the vendor’s face fall) the evening was beginning to sap his energy. The racntious nosie and lights making his already pounding head rear up in spite. _

_ The festival’s noises ran rampant in his ears: children squealing, laughing civilians, vendors calling out their wares and games. It was all grating on his already tired mind. As the night went on his mouth twisted further and further into a scowl underneath his mask.  _

_ The final straw fell when a group of young children ran right into him. (He didn’t lay a hand on them. Never. Never an innocent child.) With little preamble he turned on his heel and darted down a side street, ignoring the worried call of Komushi or the distressed apologies of the little kids who had run into him. _

_ He continued to trot until the glaring lights and pounding music faded away. _

_ He stalled within an alleyway, the music nothing more than a muffled melody on the wind. He scowled at the sandstone street as he leaned against a wall, rubbed his temples, attempting to bat the oncoming headache. _

_ He only stood when he heard the concerned call of Komushi.  _

_ With a soft sigh, he lifts his head and called out softly. “Over here.” _

_ He looks up and sees the lantern light stall, only to swing around the corner and illuminate his outclove of darkness.  _

_ Sasori hisses slightly as Kumoshi comes into view. _

_ Said brunette face flashes with concern as he drifts closer, the lantern being settled at his feet as he awkwardly hovers his hands over Sasori’s shoulder. After a moment, he sighs and gently places a hand on the redhead's shoulder. “Sasori, are you alright? You kinda ran out on me there!” Komushi chuckles.  _

_ Sasori only shakes his head. “I am fine. The festival merely became too… loud.” _

_ Komushi only shrugs. “Yeah, that happens… you wanna go back?” _

_ Sasori’s answer is immediate. “No.” _

_ The brunette blinks at the harsh answer, only to shrug. “Well, I guess we’ll stay here then.” With that he sinks to the ground, making a great show of stretching his arms and settling to lean against the wall.  _

_ Sasori gives him an incredulous look. “What?” _

_ Komushi only smirks up at him. “Well, you don’t want to go back and I’m not expected home for at least another hour… so why not just hang out?” _

_ Sasori only stares as the brunette next to him settles, eyes slipping closed as a relaxed smirk plays on his lips. He waits for a few moments, expecting some kind of movement, but when it becomes clear that the boy isn’t moving he sighs and sinks to the ground, shifting the small lantern aside and leaning against the wall. _

_ He stares up and stalls slightly at what he sees. _

_ The moon’s bright smiling face stares back at him, full and beaming like a muted sun. The stars glitter in the sky like strung up gems, only adding to the beauty of the sky. His attention is then drawn to the world around him, the street is covered in a blanket of dark blue, if not for the festival he would think the village dead, the wind riding a thrilling chill to the night and the cheerily flickering light of the lantern next to him. _

_ He grabs the paper ball and settles it into his lap, running pale fingers against golden painted filigree and cherry red paper. He marvels at the soft light, seemingly weak, yet somehow able to beat back the cold night. He feels warm, regardless of the desert chill around him. _

_ He’s snapped out of his revery as a taiyaki is suddenly shoved under his nose. _

_ Sasori’s head snaps to the side and he’s surprised to see Komushi wide awake and holding two of the fish cakes in his hands. “How..?” _

_ Komushi grins sheepishly. “I nabbed them while you were looking at something else. They, uh, might be a lil’ smooshed, but still edible right?” _

_ Sasori only rolls his eyes and plucks the food from his friends hand. To which the brunette grins and bites into his own, happily moaning as the sweet bean paste explodes from the cake. _

_ Sasori looks down at his own and then to the lantern light in his lap. _

_ He almost smiled.  _ ** _Almost. _ **

  
  


Sasori panted softly, hands quivering slightly-  _ he could still feel the warmth of the lantern lights.  _ He stared and green orbs gazed back. For a moment he froze, blood turning to ice, but soon he softened. Shimmering threads brought the puppet forward, he walked back down the rows and to the work bench, a small smile on his lips.

“Ah, I almost forgot.”

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FIRST MY COMPUTER ATE MY DIGITAL PIECE AND THEN I STRUGGLED WITH MY TRADITIONAL PIECE AND THEN I HIT WRITERS BLOCK HERE I WILL REFINE THIS LATER OMG I'M SO SORRY ;-;


End file.
